A La Mode
by ElphieUpland
Summary: Just a slice of rhubarb. That's all it ever is, and frankly, Olive's tired of it. But is blowing up the right solution? One-shot.


**Okay, I know that I'm not supposed to be updating, and that if I were to update at all, it would be Jenny's Journey, but I can't help it. I wrote this a few months back and in an effort to distract myself from the stresses of homework, I found it in the backwaters of my Microsoft Documents. Enjoy!**

"Hey, Itty Bitty!" Emerson called from across the room. Olive grinned to herself. She liked that name. A lot. It meant she was included, that she was important to that little group of people that she loved so dearly. Too bad that name came with conditions. She sighed, then smiled, heading over cheerfully to see what Emerson wanted.

"What's the haps, gang?" she said optimistically, bouncing up to the table. She had to keep up her cheerful attitude after all! It was one of her pride attributes, along with her supposed ability to tell someone's mood by what pie they ordered. "Any new murders to solve?"

Ned and Chuck turned their heads away guiltily and Emerson merely glared at it. "Get me some rhubarb, Itty Bitty." Olive's face fell, only for a moment before she perked up again. Had she expected anything else? They never included her. Ever. Sometimes she felt as if they were afraid to involve her. For what ever reason. She shook her head amiably.

"Always rhubarb, Mr. Big Shot," she teased before turning to Ned and Chuck. "Anything for the-" she hesitated slightly, "For the lovely couple?"

"No, thanks Olive," Ned said shortly, his eyes tight with his ever present awkwardness. Then again, that was what Olive loved about him. That silly, boyish awkwardness always made her smile. She tottered off, dazed whenever Ned spoke, without even taking Chuck's order.

In a flash, ignoring the few other customers chatting in their booths, Olive was back. "Your rhubarb, Your Majesty," she said with a flourish, smiling cheerfully. It seemed that smile was on her face a lot, even when it didn't belong there. "You always order rhubarb, why is that? I don't know why I'm asking, it's just a funny little observation. What about rhubarb is so appealing? You know, I can tell people's moods by what type of pie they order, so that must mean you're constantly grumpy. Then again, I could see that on my own, so I wouldn't need the pie to tell!" Olive was well aware that she was rambling, but she needed some way to keep smiling. She knew they were talking about things that they didn't want to share with her, and she wanted to be present as long as possible, just in case they finally broke and made her a permanent Itty Bitty.

"I wanted a la mode," Emerson grumbled, clearly ignoring everything Olive had said and pushing his plate to the side.

A surge of sudden anger burst through Olive's tiny frame, and before she could stop herself, her heart opened her mouth and spoke for her. "Stop being a baby and just eat the damn pie!" she yelled, tears welling up in her eyes.

Emerson, Chuck, and Ned looked up at her. "Olive please, quiet down!" Ned said, looking around anxiously at the alarmed customers.

"No!" she shrieked, getting into angry chipmunk mode before she could help it, "I'm tired of quieting down! That's all I ever do! You never include me, you expect me to sit here and look pretty all the time, which I admittedly do quite well, but still!" Several of the alarmed customers were stealthily trying to escape out the door. She whirled on them. "Sit down and enjoy yourselves!" she demanded, pointing her tiny finger.

"Olive…" Chuck said, concerned for her only friend's welfare.

"Don't give me that Olive crap! Like you care! You only feign concern because you're part of the group! You know everything! What do I know about all this? Just a slice of rhubarb pie! That's all I ever know. Pie! You don't think I want to be included? I'm tired of being told secrets I don't want to know and then be totally ignored when other secrets that I DO want to know come along! When can and can't I be trusted? Pleeeeeease! Elaborate for me!" Olive stopped for a breath, waving her arms broadly, but Ned quickly intercepted before she could start again.

"Olive, get a hold of yourself! You wouldn't believe the truth if we told it to you!" He had said the wrong thing. Olive really didn't like being angry, it went against her nature to be anything but happy, but she was getting rid of all her personal demons, and she wasn't going to stop until every last one of them was out.

"Oh that's your excuse? I can't handle the truth! That's it? That's why I can't be in on this?" This time, the customers successfully escaped, but Olive was too far into her rant to care. She was finally getting her opinion out. "Why does Chuck get to know everything? She's only been around for a couple of months and suddenly all three of you are chummy! I've known you for years! Years! And what do I get? Your orders." On any other day, the look on Chuck's face might've evoked some sympathy in Olive's heart, but not today. Oh no, not today.

"Olive, stop." Ned said nervously, "You're hurting Chuck! Just think about what you're saying!"

"Oh, that's right," Olive said, feigning sweetness, "It's aaaaaall about Chuck. And for your info, I've thought plenty about what I'm saying, and it's stayed bottled up all this time! Did any of YOU ever stop to think that what you've been doing is hurting ME?" Olive stopped, shocked that she had actually let those words escape her mouth. She had vowed to never let that particular grievance of hers to escape. A small hand flew to her mouth, and she shook her head disbelievingly. "Uh…" she said, looking at the shocked expressions on her friends' faces, "Uh… I… didn't… please forgive me!" she said, rushing to the counter. She grabbed her keys and coat and walked out the door, not sure where she was going to go. She certainly couldn't go home right now.

Emerson, Ned, and Chuck exchanged looks. "Can't say I didn't see that comin'" Emerson said, leaning back against the booth and looking them both squarely in the eye. "Personally, I think Itty Bitty's more useful then dead girl." Emerson started grumbling, talking more to himself then to the two lovers. "Who asks for last requests anyway? They dead already. Don't need nothin' but money." he sighed, "And I do love money."

Chuck turned to Ned, tears in her eyes. "Do you think she m-meant that Ned?" she asked hesitantly, and Ned's heart melted.

"Of course she didn't. She just… Well, she's Olive." Ned really disliked his current situation, and as usual, when he didn't like a situation and he couldn't talk his way out of it, he fled. He ran back behind the counter, probably making more pies. Chuck thought that his stress-baking habit was adorably cute, just like everything else about him, but her mind was preoccupied with the mini-explosion that was Olive Snook.

"Do you think we should tell her?" Chuck asked to thin air.

"Absolutely not!" came Ned's muffled reply. "She'll get over it like she always does! She's Olive like that."

"I sure hope you're right." Chuck said worriedly, looking out the window at the Olive's retreating form. Chuck was overridden with the sudden feeling that Olive's outburst had been perfectly justified.

**And Ta-daa! In case you couldn't tell, I'm an Olive fan. She's pretty hilarious. Anyway, review please! *puppy dog face* I'll give you virtual cookies?**


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